


The Grey Revolution

by mockingtheodds



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockingtheodds/pseuds/mockingtheodds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of his father, John Crocker- a boy with no political experience- has just become the mayor of a powerful, resource-hoarding metropolis which is choking the life out of the surrounding cities- now left as glorified refugee camps.<br/>He must deal with  near-constant attack and surveillance by a nearby training camp, whose goal is to break down the city's impressive perimetre and force it to accept the refugees it has created. Karkat Vantas heads the camp, sending moles and scouts into the city in an attempt to recruit new soldiers, part of a new initiative to break down the city's defenses and provide the surrounding cities with the resources they need to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grey Revolution

He was too young.

He was too young and too naïve and too inexperienced and too _everything_ to be in such a commanding position. He had no idea the power that danced just outside of his vision; the ways in which he could aid or destroy the lives of thousands. He sat in his father’s desk, and he was drowning in it. John Crocker was in over his head in too many senses of the word, but he wasn’t stupid. He noticed that Rose Lalonde was regarding him with worry and a hint of condescension, and that she had been for some time. So he scowled, and, Rose noted with disdain, actually had the audacity to spin around in his father’s chair like a five-year-old child waiting for a play date.

“This isn’t a game, you know. You ought to be taking all of this much more seriously.” Another scowl in response. She waited for something a little more verbal, but John clearly insisted on staying silent.

“Fine. You can shirk your responsibilities for now, but your father was a busy man for a reason. You wouldn’t believe the amount of bureaucratic backlog that has taken place as a result of his death. I’ve been dealing with it for wee-”

“Oh yeah, I _bet_.” She narrowed her eyes at him, realizing with a mild amount of scorn that he really _was_ just a child. It was John Crocker’s first day as the mayor of a city with a population of over 500,000 people, and he hadn’t even taken the care to iron his shirt. She wondered for a moment if he even knew how to operate an iron.

Not likely.

            In fact, she thought, looking at him again, it was likely he presented himself in such a manner as a show of defiance. His hair was uncombed, and even more untameable than she remembered it being when he was younger, and his glasses had a large, oily fingerprint right over the one lens that must have been interfering with his vision, yet he hadn’t removed his glasses to clean it.

            Well Rose Lalonde knew how to play games; her scaling of the bureaucratic ladder was the reason she had become advisor in the first place. So if John Crocker intended on playing games with her, she was all too eager to participate. So she left him in the office, heading into her own and picking up a stack of paperwork. She took care to ensure it was nothing critical; merely some sign-offs on small infrastructure projects around the suburbs. But the stack was easily eight inches thick, and managed to knock Mr. Crocker’s favourite chrome paperweight onto the ground as she slammed it onto his desk.

“Well, _Mr. Crocker_ , here is a small fraction of what your father left behind. You will need to read over it- yes, that’s right, read, Mr. Crocker. You do know how to read, don’t you?” He nodded gruffly in response. “Well at any rate this will need to be completed before you leave for the evening. Since your blatant show of disrespect has wasted at least half an hour of both of our time, I suggest you begin reading quickly if you aim to be home before curfew. Enjoy.” With that she turned on her heel and left the office before he could respond, closing the large, frosted glass door carefully behind her. It had a sense of finality to it, as if she was closing a tomb. But it brought with it a new kind of silence, one uninhibited by John Crocker’s immature snark.

She was exhausted from the brief encounter, and dreaded the time where she would need to come to him with larger issues. His father had been so much easier to deal with; he was authoritative, commanding, but made decisions with thoughtfulness and compassion for the city’s people. She had admired him immensely, and never had she been given a reason to believe what he had been doing wasn’t in the best interests of the city. It had raised controversy, surely; as with his predecessor before him, he left the wall around the city intact, and hardly any changes had been made to the city’s strict no-refugee policy in the last thirty years. Mr. Crocker had done exactly what a good mayor should always do, which is to live by the mantra of “do not fix what is not broken.”

            She retreated back to her office, much smaller and less organized than her superior’s. It had the same frosted glass doors and hard, tiled floors, but unlike Mr. Crocker’s office hers was littered with stacks of stark white paper waiting to be shuffled along to various departments. The stacks were piled unusually high lately due to the aforementioned backlog Mr. Crocker’s death had caused, but Rose ventured that she likely knew the location of any individual document, should someone request the location of it. This office was her home, almost more so than her actual home—a small one bedroom apartment that overlooked the city centre. She knew on some level that she should likely make some kind of attempt at organization, but she was tired, and opted instead for sitting down at her desk, pulling out her computer, and logging into the city’s communications network.

**[ROSE LALONDE] has initiated conversation with [DAVE STRIDER] at 16:18:09**

RL: I finally met him.

RL: Formally, that is.

RL: I can’t stand him, Dave. Am I really to be expected to teach this boy how to run a city? He looks like he’s barely out of his teenage years, and yet he acts as if he is still deep within them.

RL: You’re likely on some kind of patrol, I know. But you really shouldn’t leave your account logged in like this. It’s irritating.

DS: im here

DS: just wondering how long youre gonna sit there are talk to yourself before i finally answer

DS: its kind of funny watching you wig out like this

DS: uncanny really

DS: kids got you that frazzled huh

RL: I am not frazzled.

RL: I’m pissed off.

RL: And I miss Mr. Crocker.

DS: if you miss him so much why dont you just pop on into his office and say hello

DS: chat it up a bit

DS: have coffee

DS: swap contact info

DS: i dont know just do whatever the hell normal people with social lives do

RL: Oh, fuck off.

DS: lalonde the kids got you dropping f bombs and youre trying to tell me youre not frazzled

DS: dont shit with me

RL: I’m just not looking forward to the next couple of weeks. You know it means hell for you too, right?

DS: not really

RL: Well it does. I can already tell this boy has an overinflated ego, and once he gets his smug ass into gear he’s going to want to change things. Big things. Things that involve security, probably.

DS: fuck

DS: how old is he anyway

RL: I’m not sure. 20, 21? I’ll have to look over the transfer forms again.

DS: cant you just tell him to be a pretty little placeholder so we can keep shit running smoothly

DS: i mean i dont always agree with you but i gotta admit you keep shit on track

RL: Thanks, I guess.

RL: And I’ll try.

DS: good luck

DS: let me know when you figure this out

**[ROSE LALONDE] has ceased communication with [DAVE STRIDER] at 16:35:30**

            Now that she had told Dave, she felt a little better. Jade was next on the list, naturally; _if_ John had plans to change security, he would likely feel it necessary to mess with the militia as well. But that could wait until later; her schedule told her Jade would be out in the badlands until tomorrow afternoon anyway. Instead she grabbed a nearby stack of papers, sifting through them until she had a pile of fairly important documents that she had the authorization to sign off on. The more serious matters would simply have to wait until John was more prepared, she thought. As if she had a choice.

-

            Like Rose Lalonde, Karkat Vantas was also exhausted, though for entirely different reasons. He was slumped unceremoniously against his desk, which—unlike Ms. Lalonde’s sprawling expanse of glass and stainless steel—was a rough wooden slab with a couple of barely lockable drawers. He was alone—a privilege he experienced for only a few, precious moments each day, and he took the opportunity to revel in it for the brief time that he could, allowing the silence to seep into and envelope him. After about fourteen seconds—far less time than he believed he deserved—there was a quick, harsh knock on the door of his office. He merely grunted in response, and a very flustered Feferi burst through the door, bringing with her all of the noise and commotion of the camp outside.

“Karkat! There you are!” She sounded out of breath, as she generally did, her long hair pulled back into a large bun at the base of her neck. She was dressed for an assault, though that wasn’t entirely surprising; she was usually dressed for duty, and felt that wearing her work clothes kept her on her toes, ready for any surprises the city might throw at her. Karkat finally leaned up from his desk, tossing a scowl in her direction but not really feeling it.

“What is it, Feferi? I was busy. I’m always busy. I can’t just-”

“Oh yeah. I can tell you’re _really_ swamped here, Karkat. But I wouldn’t bug you unless it was important, and if you hadn’t just tried to give me one of your stupid lectures I could have already told you!” She huffed, clearly a little annoyed, but put her finger out to shush him when he went to rebuke her.

“Shush! You be quiet! Now, Sollux is getting ready to head into the city to begin gathering the new recruits, but he wants to know if he can bring Nepeta with him. I know she has her duties here, but he thinks she could be useful. And he’s _right_ ,” she added, rolling her eyes. Karkat eyed her, both wary and dumbfounded.

“Wait. So you’re saying _Sollux_ told you _he_ wanted to bring _Nepeta_.” He spoke slowly, like he was trying with all his might to understand how that situation had pulled itself out of the universe’s rectum in order to be presented to him at that moment. Feferi rolled her eyes again, speaking quickly.

“Well not in so many words. But she’s a really good recruiter! I know it’s not really her job, but she managed to get Equius out here, and he was one of the city’s most loyal machinists! She’s got too many connections in there to just let it go to waste. Besides, Tavros will be able to cover the mess hall once she’s gone, plus we don’t have any big assaults coming up until after she gets back!” She was incredibly good at convincing him, knowing exactly how to speak so he could never get a word in edgewise. It both impressed and irritated him. But he knew she was right, regardless of how pissed off Sollux would be as a result. He had a feeling the two of them had most likely argued for a while about this, but he knew that having a good recruiter in the city was infinitely more important than having Sollux’s ego remaining unscathed. He merely grunted and nodded in Feferi’s direction, and was greeted by an extremely high-pitched squeal in response as she ran out of the office, firing off a quick “Thank you Karkat!” before she disappeared into the mass of people outside, likely to tell a soon-to-be-disappointed Sollux his fate.

**[FEFERI PEIXES] has started a chat with [SOLLUX CAPTOR] at 17:02:39**

FP: Sollux!

SC: oh god. you’re way too excited for this to be anything but bad news.

FP: You are so totally right. I just got back from talking to Karkat, and he said that going with Nepeta was an awesome idea!

FP: Okay so you know he didn’t say it exactly like that, but you get the idea.

SC: ah fuck. i should have known you’d be the one to convince him. is there any way i can get out of this?

FP: Nope!

SC: would you tell me if there was?

FP: Nope!

FP: Now I gotta go get ready for training, have fun with Nepeta!

SC: uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

**[FEFERI PEIXES] has finished chatting with [SOLLUX CAPTOR] at 17:07:47**


End file.
